


more than a band

by tusktooth



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Inspired by Lemonade Mouth (2011), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tusktooth/pseuds/tusktooth
Summary: When Eddie and six of his peers land in detention for various reasons, they find a bunch of old dusty instruments in the back of the classroom. Upon playing them, they discover that they have musical synergy and that their band has the potential to transform their school to prove that the arts are just as important as athletics.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 40
Collections: Richie/Eddie Bigbang 2019





	more than a band

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this eons ago and yet am posting it on the last day fdjklfldjksa oops  
> art by the extremely talented [shoomdle](https://twitter.com/shoomdle)  
> [you can find me on tumblr](http://adaine.tumblr.com/)

It all started in detention because, really, where else would something so bizarre begin? Eddie’s life, while once tame, had taken a tumultuous turn for the worse ever since that fateful day, not that he would trade it for the world.

He shouldn’t have even  _ been _ in detention that day. After all, he had never gotten detention in his life. His mother had raised him to be a good boy. He listened to his teachers and did all his homework and never broke a single school rule.

Well, as it turned out, Eddie never broke a single school rule  _ that he knew of _ .

Because how was he supposed to know that hiding out in a janitor’s closet during his lunch would land him in detention? All he was trying to do was get a head start on his English assignment while also avoiding Bowers and his band of assholes. Did he really deserve detention for that?

The dean had decided, despite Eddie’s clear lack of disciplinary action on his record, that the answer was lunch detention. He thought this was absolute bullshit which, upon the mistake of voicing this to the dean’s face, landed him in  _ actual  _ detention. For a week.

His mom was going to fucking skin him alive.

He had to ask for help finding the room where detention was held. It was in the art wing, a part of the school in which Eddie had never ventured before as he only really took core academic classes. The art wing was just a small collection of mostly empty classrooms in the basement of the school, where the temperature was set just a little bit too cold.

The detention room was in the back of it, next to a tall, dusty vending machine. The machine was mostly empty, other than a few bags of Hot Cheetos, a singular KitKat, and an entire row of some gummy candies called Sharks and Puppies that were selling for 25¢. Fishing into his pocket, Eddie pulled out a quarter and slid it into the machine. He was a bit hungry, having missed the chance to finish his lunch. This candy would have to suffice for now.

After gathering his bag of candy, Eddie pushed through the door to the detention room where he saw six semi-familiar faces, all of people in his grade.

Richie Tozier was the person he was least surprised to see in detention. He had a loud mouth and absolutely no filter. It wasn’t a rarity that teachers would send him to the dean’s office for saying something lewd or otherwise out of line.

He also wasn’t surprised to see Beverly Marsh, as nice as she might be. She had recently stood up at an assembly to loudly oppose sexist dress codes. And, besides, everyone knew that she  _ did  _ guys in school. There was no way she’d never gotten caught for that.

Most surprising was Bill Denbrough. Everybody knew who he was, popular but still very kind-hearted. He was also on the baseball team which meant that the dean was also one of his coaches and thus he must have done something pretty out of line to get thrown in detention.

Stan Uris was someone that Eddie didn’t necessarily know as well. He knew that he was quiet and that he was Jewish (based on the little hat he wore sometimes) but that was pretty much it. If he was in detention, well, Eddie wasn’t wholly convinced that it wasn’t a mistake.

The final two people in the room, Eddie didn’t know too well besides that their names were Mike and Ben. One of them was a dark-skinned boy and the other was fairly chubby. Both seemed to keep to themselves, just like Eddie did, but were also victims of Bowers’ torment. No matter what they had done to get here, Eddie thought it would be nice to get to know them. Common enemies often made for strong friendships.

The room itself was perhaps more interesting than the people in it. It clearly used to be a music room but now seemed to be used for storage more than anything. There were instruments jammed off to the side and covered in a layer of dust. Eddie wondered when the last time anyone had so much as looked at them had been.

The teacher running detention didn’t seem all that interested in being there. She collected their phones at the beginning, told them not to talk, and then disappeared into the hallway. After about five minutes it became clear that she wouldn’t be returning until the end of the hour.

“So, who says we get out of here for a little while? Come back before our lovely teacher realizes we’ve ever left,” Richie suggested.

Beverly shrugged. “I’m down. She won’t be back until it’s time to go. Might as well get out and have some fun.”

“We can’t. We have to stay here for the hour,” he hissed. “And we aren’t supposed to be talking either. I don’t want this to become any worse than it already is.”

“Don’t be such a rules guy, Eds!” Richie exclaimed. “Bev and I have both had detention with this teacher before. She won’t even notice that we’re gone until we’re back in our seats being perfectly silent.”

He shook his head. “Even if she doesn’t come back while we’re away, someone could spot us in the hallways or through the security cameras. A week of detention is more than enough for me, thank you very much. Also, don’t call me Eds.”

“A  _ week _ of detention?” Richie asked with wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”

“None of your business,” he snapped.

“I agree with Eddie, actually,” Ben said quietly. “If another teacher catches us wandering the halls we could get in bigger trouble than before. That doesn’t mean that we can’t talk, though. Nobody is going to notice that.”

“Unless Richie and Eddie keep yelling at each other,” Stan said, nearly under his breath.

“We’re in the basement. N-Nobody is going to hear them anyway,” Bill pointed out. “Or care.”

“Well, I can’t sit any longer,” Beverly said, pushing herself out of her chair and wandering to the back of the room to examine the collection of instruments. “Why is there an entire drum set back here?”

“Probably from the pit in school musicals,” Ben suggested. “I mean, I haven’t heard anything about any here but my old school had them every year.”

“Derry doesn’t do school musicals. Or school music,” Mike said with a sigh. “It’s all about sports nowadays. Have you seen the pictures of the new gym that they’re planning on building this summer? It’s massive and completely unnecessary.”

“This school values douchebag jocks above all else,” Beverly replied before turning toward Bill. “No offense. You’re one of the chill ones. It’s mostly the football team that’s the problem.”

“I’m on the football team,” Ben piped in. “Well, junior varsity, but still. Not everyone on my team is so bad. But the guys in varsity are much less nice, I guess. They can get away with anything so…”

“So they’ll  _ do _ anything,” Stan finished.

“No offense but  _ you  _ play football?” Richie asked Ben incredulously.

He shrugged self-consciously. “It’s one of the few sports where my weight doesn’t put me at a disadvantage. And I thought it would help me build some muscle and it has but it hasn’t made me look any more attractive, unfortunately.”

Beverly walked over to him and squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t talk like that. You’re plenty attractive as you are.”

“I wish there was some way we could prove to the school that the arts are just as important as sports,” Mike said. “I mean, I used to play bass in middle school and then they cut the orchestra in high school. It was a good outlet to express myself and now what do I have? I’ve got absolutely no coordination but that doesn’t make me any less valuable than any other student.”

“And just because I play b-baseball that’s no more important than my piano skills,” Bill piped in. “I mean my mom has been giving me lessons since I was a kid! S-Songwriting is my jam.”

“We should start a band!” Richie suggested, jumping out of his seat. “Prove that we’re worth something beyond our athletic or academic values.”

Beverly ran back to the drum set and started to drum out a beat that was surprisingly amazing. “That’s my answer,” she said after she was finished.

“Somebody is going to hear-” Eddie started, but the others were already rushing past him, picking up various instruments from the back of the room and turning them up.

Bill had plugged in an electric keyboard and Mike had an electric bass and an amp in hand. Both Richie and Ben had guitars in hand, electric and acoustic respectively. Stan was holding up a fucking saxophone.

When he noticed the other’s eyes on him, he just shrugged. “It can add some extra flavor to the sound. And I’ve been playing since fourth grade.”

“What about you, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked. “Care to join in?”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “And I’d rather not get any more detention than I already have, thank you so very much.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug before turning back to the group. “Let’s play some fucking music!”

Eddie sat there with his arms crossed, expecting this attempt at musical improv to flop miserably. To his surprise after some initial pitfalls, they ended up creating something beautiful. Something that only lacked lyrics and, while Bill was attempting to sing, it appeared that he was having trouble keeping up with improv on both the keyboard and lyrically at the same time.

With a sigh, Eddie pushed out of his chair and walked toward them, snatching the microphone out from in front of a very bewildered Bill.

And then he started singing. He had been a member of the choir in his church for many years and, while he was hardly used to or comfortable with the spotlight, he definitely had a set of pipes on him. Not singing about God for once was also kind of nice, instead focusing on the power of music in his song. Because music was what was bringing them together now, it was their small act of rebellion.

After the song ended, Eddie couldn’t help but smile. He had done that, been a part of it. They were all quite talented. They could really be a band.

“Okay, we  _ need _ to do this again sometime,” Beverly said with a wide smile.

“Seconded,” Ben said, almost out of breath just from playing so passionately.

“Eds, you can sing!” Richie exclaimed. “Like really fucking well!”

His cheeks flushed red. “I mean, I guess I’m not the worst in the world.”

“Dude, you’re  _ amazing _ ,” Mike said, patting him on the back.

Stan and Bill were just smiling at one another brightly.

“Rising Star!” Beverly exclaimed, standing up from the drum set abruptly. “It’s in like a month and a half. We have to enter. If we win a spot on TV then the school can’t ignore us!”

“What’s Rising Star?” Eddie asked. It wasn’t something he had heard of before but, then again, his mom didn’t let him watch a ton of TV.

“It’s a band competition,” Mike exclaimed. “They have tryouts in various regions across the country and the finalists advance to the next round. The final round is an episode of the show on TV. The winner of that gets a shot at a record deal. But, more importantly, every band on TV gets a chance to talk about themselves. We can talk about how our school doesn’t actually care about music or the arts in general.”

“Bowers is entering, though,” Stan said with a grimace. “I don’t want a bigger target on my back than I already have. Besides, Clown Mask already has such a following here. They’ll probably win the contest anyway. Audience reaction always means something in these kinds of competitions.”

Ben nodded. “As much as I want to make a difference, do we even have a chance?”

“So we build a fanbase,” Richie interjected. “We’ve been playing together for less than an hour and we did  _ that _ . Imagine what it will be like with actual practice. And, once we wipe the floor with Bowers’ ass, he’ll have no choice but to leave us the fuck alone.”

“I can’t,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. “I’m going to be grounded until the end of time after my mom finds out about detention.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, Spaghetti,” Richie told him. “We’ll break you out of your house if we have to.”

“What would we even call ourselves?” asked Ben.

Bev scanned the room for a moment, eyes landing on their deserted desks. On each of them was an open pack of the candies from the vending machine. “Well, I mean what brought us together? Those Sharks and Puppies candies from just outside.”

“So, Shark Puppy?” asked Richie.

Bill smiled. “I like it.”

“I still don’t know if this is a great idea. I’m already so busy with helping my dad with the youth program at the synagogue,” Stan said with a frown. “I love the music we made today, I just don’t know. Besides Bill and Ben are both on sports teams.”

“Yeah, maybe this was a b-bad idea,” Bill relented. Ben nodded along with him.

“And I should be helping at my Grandpa’s farm,” Mike said with a sigh.

Richie looked to Eddie. “What about you, Eds? We need your voice.”

He shook his head. “Sorry. My mom would never let me join a band.”

“And then there were two,” Bev said sadly.

Richie hugged her to his side. “We’ll figure it out. Just because these losers are too good for the revolution doesn’t mean that we should give up on it.”

“We should get back to our seats,” Eddie told the group. “Detention is almost over.”

They returned to their seats and sat quietly as they waited for the teacher to return. Eddie couldn’t shake the thoughts of the band that almost was but never could be.

* * *

Just as Eddie suspected, his mother had been less than thrilled to hear that he had snapped at the dean and earned himself an entire week of detention. Fortunately, she seemed to be almost as pissed at the school’s administration for giving him lunch detention in the first place as she was at him.

Still, he was housebound for the next two weeks. At least she didn’t take away his phone. Not that he used it that often anyway.

“Eddie, I just can’t believe you spoke to an adult like that,” she said for the fifth time at dinner, shaking her head sadly. “You usually behave so well. I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

“Sorry, Mommy,” he said, not looking up from the bowl of stew in front of him. “I lost my temper. I’ll be more respectful from now on.”

“You’d better be. I need to know that I can trust you if I’m going to let you go away to college,” she reminded him, as she often did. He was beginning to doubt she would ever let him leave for school at all.

“I’ll be good, Mommy,” he promised.

“I’m sure you’re learning your lesson in detention,” she said with a sigh. “I hope you’re able to get your homework done while you’re there. Your studies should come first.”

“I’m on top of it,” he assured her. “I work very hard.”

She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re such a smart boy.”

He considered telling her about the impromptu jam session but thought better of it and focused on eating instead. No doubt she would tell him he was being irresponsible and risking illness by touching that dusty old microphone. What’s more, hanging out with other kids from detention would be a big no-no without a doubt. She would ban him from ever speaking with any of them ever again. Even if there wasn’t going to be a band, that moment had been important to him and he wasn’t going to let his mother ruin it just like she ruined so many other things in his life.

His mom left while he was still eating to go watch some reality TV show that he had no interest in and his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

_ Unknown (5:49) _

_ tmw. neibolt street pizza. 7pm. _

_ Eddie (5:50) _

_ who is this??? _

_ Unknown (5:51) _

_ :(((((( _

_ don’t have my # eds????? _

_ it’s richie <3 _

_ Eddie (5:53) _

_ don’t call me eds _

_ and i’m grounded so i can’t _

_ Unknown (5:54) _

_ leave it to me ;) _

Eddie didn’t know what the hell that was supposed to mean but, if it was so important that Richie thought it worth breaking Eddie out of his own house, he supposed he didn’t mind escaping for a few hours.

* * *

As it turned out, leaving it to Richie actually meant a lot of work on Eddie’s part. He was tasked with going to his room early and not getting checked on. He couldn’t play sick because there was no doubt that his mother would blow it completely out of proportion and either take him to the emergency room or keep him home from school for an entire week, possibly both. Instead, he pleaded tired. He said that he felt guilty the night before for getting in trouble so he didn’t sleep so well and insinuated that an early night would be beneficial for his health. Since that was her primary concern, it allowed him to slip into his room with confidence that she wouldn’t be stopping by every five minutes.

Then, Richie texted him to say that he just needed to sneak out through his window and that they were waiting in a car parked down the street. Which was all fine and dandy except Eddie’s room was on the second floor.

But Eddie was nothing if not innovative and he knew there was absolutely no chance of his mother going outside, so he ripped the sheets off of his bed and tied them together before fixing one end to his desk. It didn’t completely reach the ground, but it wasn’t a dangerous fall either so it would do the job.

When he finally got to the car in question, Richie wasn’t even the one driving. Stan sat in the driver’s seat looking vaguely annoyed. Richie was riding shotgun and both Ben and Beverly were already jammed in the back.

Eddie climbed back there with them. “Thanks for the ride,” he told Stan.

He just shrugged. “It was on the way. Unlike Richie’s house which was in the complete opposite direction. He insisted on getting picked up first.”

“I wanted shotgun!” he exclaimed before turned around toward Eddie. “But if you want it, Eds, we can pull over and switch.”

He crossed his arms and scowled at the nickname. “I’m fine.”

After a few minutes, they pulled into Neibolt Street Pizza, where they saw Bill and Mike were already waiting inside, the former wearing a shirt emblazoned with the restaurant’s logo.

“What’s this about?” Bill asked Richie as they sat down. “My shift st-starts in half an hour.”

“You might want to sit down for this,” Richie told them, nabbing a breadstick from the basket in the center of the table. “I signed us up for Rising Star. We’re going to kick Clown Mask’s collective asses.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Richie, you what?”

“We’re n-not ready!” Bill exclaimed.

“Which is why I also signed us up to play part of homecoming,” he told them. “The dean said he’s proud that we’ve found a creative outlet that’s not disruptive.”

“Oh, we’ll show him disruptive,” Bev said, slapping a high five to Richie.

“Didn’t we all agree that this band was a bad idea?” Stan asked.

Ben nodded. “I mean, it was a lot of fun but I have football and I can’t really afford any more detentions if I want to stay on the team.”

“I think we should do it,” Mike jumped in. “I mean, there is no denying that what we did was magical. We’ve got this spark and ignoring it would be foolish. We can actually change something.”

“And what about if we were p-planning on going to homecoming as guests?” asked Bill.

“Two words, Big Bill,” Richie said. “Free. Tickets. For you and whoever your sexy date might be.”

“Where will we practice?” Eddie asked. “I mean, I have detention until the end of the week but we can’t keep using that room indefinitely.”

“I talked to the dean and he said he we can use that room after detention ends as long as we lock it up and deliver the key to the office afterward,” Richie told him. “I’m the type of guy that covers all bases.”

He winked and Eddie scrunched up his nose.

“We can pr-practice at my house too,” Bill told them. “My mom loves when I voluntarily play the piano.”

“Maybe we can come over this weekend and do some writing,” Richie suggested. “Just you, me, Eds, and that nice piano of yours.”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug.

Bev smiled brightly. “So we’re officially a band?”

“Derry isn’t going to know what hit it,” Richie said with a grin.

* * *

Luckily, Eddie’s mom had only grounded him through Friday night, which meant he was free to go to Bill’s on Saturday and help write some songs for them to practice the following week so that they would be ready when homecoming came around.

When she asked where he was going, he lied and said he was biking over to the library to study for an upcoming exam. He wasn’t grounded anymore but he still wasn’t sure that telling her about the band was the best idea. She probably wouldn’t approve of the music he was making or his new friends. This was too important for her to ever find out.

Bill had a pretty nice house. It was a bit bigger than Eddie’s was and was completely spotless. A grand piano sat in the living room, visible through the room’s huge windows.

“This is a really nice piano,” he told Bill as they sat in the living room waiting for Richie.

“Thanks. Mom wishes I would use it for classical music but-” he shrugged. “I think she’s just h-happy I’m playing it at all. Her parents bought it for her as a graduation present after she finished at Julliard.”

“Is she a tough teacher?” he asked.

Bill shrugged. “A little. I still like it though. My little brother, G-Georgie quit after about three lessons and told her he would never touch it again.”

“Did he stick to it?”

He nodded. “Refuses to pick up any instrument at all. He likes soccer better anyway.”

“But you do it all,” he pointed out. “Sports, music, a job. That’s a lot.”

“Not really,” he replied. “It doesn’t feel like a ton when I’m having f-fun. Well, work isn’t fun. But it pays for it.”

There was a knock at the door and Bill had barely risen to answer it when a younger boy sped out of one of the rooms and toward the door, throwing it open with a wide smile. “Hi, Richie!”

“Georgie!” Richie exclaimed, hugging the boy tightly. “Long time no see! You gonna stick around for band practice?”

“Sure!” the boy chirped at the same time as Bill said. “Absolutely  _ not _ .”

He turned around with a pout on his face even though he seemed a little too old for tantrums. “Bill, you’re so busy and I  _ never  _ get to spend time with you and your friends anymore even though they’re so cool! The only friend who comes over is Stan and all you guys do is hang out in your room the whole time even though Mom says you aren’t supposed to be in your room alone with-”

Bill’s face was bright red. “F-Fine,” he mumbled hurriedly. “You can st-stay.”

Georgie smiled brightly and skipped over to the couch before sitting down with a smug look on his face. Suddenly, Eddie was happy to be an only child.

Richie walked over and patted Eddie’s shoulder. “This, my small friend, is my other small friend, Eddie. He’s even cuter than you but not for the same reasons.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Richie,” he said, eyes widening when he realized what he said. “-Err, I mean, back off, Richie?”

Georgie Denbrough howled with laughed. “I like your new friend, Bill.”

“Just ignore him,” Bill said, taking a seat at the piano and cracking his knuckles.

“So, for homecoming, we probably need something upbeat,” Eddie suggested even though he’d never actually been to homecoming. He had never dated anyone and, even if it was normal for boys to go with a group of friends, he hadn’t really had many during the past few years.

“M-Maybe one slow song,” Bill added. “Clown Mask never pl-plays any but last year Audra complained about there not b-being any.”

“Even if we don’t end up playing it in the dance it’s good to have some variety in the arsenal,” Richie said with a nod. “But let’s start with the bumpin’ songs because that’s far more fun.”

Taking a seat at the piano, Bill started playing something energetic and cheerful. It was really good and Eddie was shocked that he had improvised it. After a few moments of just listening, he realized that he was expected to think up lyrics.

“Shit,” he said.

“You alright, Spaghetti?” Richie asked, rubbing his back lightly in a way that he admittedly didn’t hate.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I just can’t think of anything. Nothing that fits Bill’s awesome song.”

“Wh-What do you want to sing about?” Bill asked him. “We can start there.”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe something about what we’re trying to do? Like bringing upon change.”

Richie nodded. “I like that plan. Bill, amp up the intensity a bit. Eds, you and me can start brainstorming some lyrics.”

He smiled and realized, though he was here to sing and write, he wasn’t alone. They were a  _ band _ . There were always going to be six people willing to support him in his music. Especially Richie.

* * *

“Hey, shortstack!” called Henry Bowers while Eddie was desperate;y trying to maneuver his way toward band practice unnoticed.

He whipped around. “Uhh.”

“Hear you little fuckers have a band,” he said, looming closer. “A band that’s stealing half of our homecoming set. You really think that you can get away with that, Mr. Lead Singer? Did you think there wouldn’t be retaliation?”

“We just-” he started, looking around for any path to freedom.

“Asshole!” Beverly yelled from down the hall as a gummy candy bounced of Bowers’ head, causing him to whip around furiously.

“What do you want, Marsh?” he said through gritted teeth. “Well, I think we all know what you  _ want _ but why’d you throw shit at me.”

“Nobody screws with my friends,” she shouted, poking him in the chest. “Our band is going to kill it at homecoming and then we’re going to kick your sorry asses at Rising Star. You haven’t even heard us play and you know it because your shitty band is that bad!”

“You know, I don’t usually hit girls,” he started.

“Hit me if you want,” she said with a shrug. “You’d just prove my point. If you’re any good, you’d beat us on the stage. Where it  _ counts _ .”

“I  _ will  _ beat you on the stage,” he grumbled as he stomped away angrily.

“You-” Eddie began, looking at Bowers’ retreating form before turning back to Beverly. “How?”

She shrugged. “He’s not all that smart and he’s highly competitive. It’s not all that hard to manipulate that kind of person into another contest.”

He shook his head. “You’re a goddess, Beverly Marsh.”

Bev smiled cheerfully. “Don’t I know it! Now let’s get to practice.”

Eddie followed her through the hall and down toward the room that they practiced in, only to get stopped in the hallway by the rest of his friends crowded in the hallway in front of the room, frozen in shock.

He craned his head around to try to see what they were looking at to no avail. “Guys, what’s going on?”

“Are you too short to see, Eds?” Richie teased, but even his quip didn’t have the usual energy behind it.

“Beep beep, Richie,” Bev mumbled and she and the others moved to the side so that Eddie was able to see.

On the vending machine with the Sharks & Puppies candies in it, the only vending machine in the entire arts wing, there was a piece of paper with scraggly handwriting on it, reading “scheduled for removal.”

They were taking away the very thing that brought them together, the thing that gave them purpose as a band, all at the expense of the arts community at their school once again. This wasn’t just an attack against them, this was an attack against all the students in the school that didn’t spend their entire lives slaving away at homework or on the field.

“Why would they do this?” Ben asked.

“Why would they do this?” Stan echoed. “You know exactly why.”

“This was Bowers,” Mike said, hand curling up into a fist. “He cornered me earlier about us taking homecoming from him. No doubt he got his revenge as soon as he heard.”

“He went after me too,” Eddie replied.

“This settles it,” Bev told them. “Homecoming is a week and a half away. We need to show this school what we’ve got.”

* * *

Eddie’s mom was surprisingly thrilled to hear he was going to homecoming.

He had never gone in the past. She had always told him that dances were sweaty and dirty and full of kids making terrible decisions. She reminded him that he was better than those kids and should stay far, far away from them.

But when he asked her if he could go to the dance, she smiled widely. “My Eddie Bear is finally growing up!” she exclaimed. “You’ll always be my little baby, but I’m glad you get to go dance, as long as it’s not too close and there’s no drinking-”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he promised his mom. “I’ll be good.”

“Of course you will, Eddie,” she replied. “You’re such a good boy. And you’ll be home before 10:30. I’m going to let you stay up past your bedtime because it’s an extra-special night.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, waiting for the moment that whatever was inhabiting her jumped out of her and attacked him or something, but she seemed genuinely okay with this.

“Do you need me to drive you to pick her up?” she asked.

And then everything kind of clicked together. She wasn’t happy that he was going to homecoming. His mom was happy because she thought that he was going out with a  _ girl _ . It was ironic, seeing as she had steered him away from girls a lot in the past, hellbent on keeping him from any sort of sexual relationship or whatever but, now that she realized that it had worked a little too well, that he wasn’t actually showing any interest in women at all, she suddenly was happy to let him go to a school dance with them.

Because, in her eyes, there was nothing worse than Eddie being gay. Because that was against God and he was going to catch an STD because she thought he was fragile and stupid.

Despite knowing her perception of the situation, he smiled brightly. “No thanks, Mommy. A friend is going to pick me up and then we’re all going to go together.”

She nodded. “Well, don’t you forget to take pictures. I can’t wait to show all the ladies at the store how handsome my son looks at homecoming.”

“I’ll try to remember,” he told her. Maybe he could ask Bev to take a picture with him to appease her. Or just conveniently forget.

And like that, Eddie was dressed and ready to go when Stan picked him up at 6:30. The dance was at 7:30 but they had to get there early for soundcheck.

He had been the first one he picked up and Stan was practically shaking with nerves in the driver’s seat.

“Are you nervous about the set?” he asked him as they drove.

“I’m not nervous,” Stan snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“It’s okay if you are,” he continued. “It’s our first time performing in front of other people. I’m a little nervous myself. I mean, if we don’t build a fanbase now, then how are we supposed to have half a shot at Rising Star?”

“Well,  _ now _ I’m nervous about the set,” he grumbled as they pulled in front of Ben’s house.

“You’re nervous about something,” he replied.

Stan sighed and looked toward Ben’s front door, which still wasn’t opened, and then turned to Eddie. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Cross my heart.”

“I’m going to the dance with Bill,” he told him. “As in, he’s my date. And I guess I’m worried about what people will think, even if we’re being lowkey about it and they probably won’t even notice. Nobody really knows about us yet. Except for Richie. And Bill’s little brother, apparently.”

“Maybe it’ll feel good. Sometimes hiding it is terrible and it’s nice to have stuff in the open,” Eddie told him, aware of the hypocrisy in his statement. “And what you and Bill are doing is brave. It’s alright to be scared.”

“Scared about what?” Ben asked as he climbed into the backseat, wearing a suit that was far nicer than either of theirs.

“Nothing,” Stan said with a shake of his head as he pulled back onto the street. “Are you going to ask Beverly to dance tonight?”

He flushed a deep red. “I don’t think she’d want to dance with me.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Stan told him.

Eddie nodded in agreement. “If she doesn’t want to dance, it’ll probably because Bowers’ half of the set is just too hard on her eardrums.”

Stan snorted. “That’ll truly be a burden on all of us.”

* * *

The others were already there when they arrived at the school. Mike had driven himself since he lived all the way on the outskirts of town and Bill had driven the rest of them.

Bill and Stan pinned flowers to each other’s chests in the empty gym while the rest of them watched and Bev took photos for them. It was kind of adorable.

Eddie wandered toward the stage and, suddenly, everything felt just a little more real. He would be standing up there in front of the entire school and they’d all be paying attention to him, to his voice, because he was going to be the one  _ singing _ .

He shook his head. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Mike. “I heard you at practice yesterday. You were nailing every song!”

“But that was just us,” he replied, hands shaking. “This is everyone. This is Bowers and our teachers and all the kids in our classes. I can’t do it.”

“Eddie, we c-can’t do this without you,” Bill said with a frown. “You’re our voice.”

“Think about all the change that we could bring to this school,” Beverly reminded him. “Are you really ready to give all of that up.”

He looked at her a bit helplessly. “That’s not-” he shook his head and started toward the door. “I’m sorry to let you down, guys. I just can’t do it.”

Tears dripped down his face as he silently made his way toward the gym doors and sat on the curb outside, debating as to whether it was better to call his mom and face the reality of his homecoming experience or just walk around until it was a normal time to get home.

A few minutes next to him, he felt someone sit down next to him. He looked over to see Richie, looking down at him with concern.

“I’m sorry,” he told him.

Richie shook his head and reached into a bag of Sharks Puppies. “You don’t have to be sorry. I only came out here to make sure you were okay. Candy?”

Eddie grabbed a gummy. “I feel terrible but I’ve never performed in front of anyone before. What if they don’t think I’m any good?”

“Well, I think that you’re pretty fucking great, Eds,” he told him. “And if anyone thinks otherwise, then they need to get their ears, eyes, and sense of judgment checked. You’re one of the best singers I’ve heard in my life and it’s an honor to share a former music room in the basement with you.”

He wrapped his arm around him and Eddie leaned into the touch. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You won’t,” he promised him. “But you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Singing or not, you’ll never let me down.”

Eddie took a deep breath, thinking of everything that he’d done to get here and everything that had changed as a part of it. Shark Puppy allowed Eddie to be himself, even only for a song or two. It was too early to let that go.

He stood up, grabbing Richie’s hand and pulling him up with them. “Let’s do this,” he said with a small smile.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” he replied with a nod.

Together they went back inside and toward the stage, where their friends were nervously waiting as other students were beginning to pile into the gym.

Stan stood up when he saw them approach. “Are we doing this?”

Eddie nodded. “We’re doing this.”

Soundcheck went fine and the distraction was good for settling Eddie’s nerves, but they returned full force when it was time to actually perform. Sure, he wasn’t about to back down, but he had never been in front of an audience like this and he was terrified of screwing it up for all his new friends.

The background music started up and he breathed deeply, all too aware of his shaking hands and quietly started singing, getting a mixed reaction from the audience.

He looked back at Richie, who offered him an encouraging smile and sung a little bit louder, feigning confidence.

People were bopping their heads along to the beat, enjoying the music that they had written to show the world. It felt great to be heard and suddenly he was just as confident as he was in the practice room. Because they were doing this for two reasons: to make a difference and to have fun together. He was glad he got to share that fun with his peers.

Soon, he was swept up in the music, putting everything into every note as the background faded away entirely. It was euphoric. He nearly forgot they were performing at all until the song faded out and the sound of clapping filled the air, making him smile brightly.

At the end of their set, the crowd erupted in cheers. His peers, including some of the very students that had once cast him and his friends aside, had been just enthralled in the music as they had. It was empowering to think that their music that they had been throwing everything into over the past month could have such an impact on people, but the point of why they did this still had to be driven home.

Not being one for speeches, Eddie stepped aside and allowed Beverly to take the mic and speak to the audience before they lost their attention.

“We’re Shark Puppy!” she yelled, getting loud cheers in response. “And we’re almost done for the night, but we have one more thing for you guys!”

She nodded toward Mike, who lifted a big bucket from the back of the stage and started handing out bags of candy to students in the crowd.

“We have some candy for you all,” she told them. “Candy that is currently being sold in the vending machine downstairs, the one that brought us all together in the first place, the one that has been scheduled for removal.”

A loud gasp filled the room.

“I know, I know. For sentimental reasons, it sucks. But in the end, the physical candy being gone isn’t what concerns us. It’s what it stands for that’s far more bothersome,” she explained. “In my time here at Derry High, I’ve noticed something that’s really worrying. The administration here only values one type of student: the white athlete.”

The crowd started chattering, people turning to each other in conversation.

Bev made a quieting motion with her arm. “Now, I get it if you’re confused. What does candy have to do with this? Here’s the fact: students at this school work hard and they deserve a treat every once in a while. But this school only purchases overpriced junk that masquerades itself as health behind buzzwords like “all-natural” and “organic,” which don’t actually necessarily mean anything.”

She moved closer to the crowd and squatted down, so she was more level with the student population. “The school treats its students the exact same way. I’m not an athlete. I’m a musician and I have a passion for fashion design. But to the school? That means nothing. Mike here has had the football coach after him all year but after he told him he couldn’t throw a ball, suddenly he was treated like the absolute dirt of the earth despite his stellar academics. Hell, Ben  _ is  _ on one of our football teams, he’s really good at it too, but because his body doesn’t quite look how society wants it to, nobody gives him the time of day, at least not in a positive light. I could go on forever because each one of us up here? We’ve had experiences like these and I’m sure a lot of you have too. So, I encourage you to follow your dreams, even if the school doesn’t want you to because, trust me, Derry high doesn’t give half a shit about you.”

And then the lights went dark, all electricity seemingly turned off, but it was too late. People were cheering, chanting their name. Their little band could make a difference, the proof was right in front of them.

Stan grabbed him by the shirt. “We have to go.”

“Wh-” he started.

“We’re going to be in so much tr-trouble if we’re still here when the lights are turned on,” Bill explained as he pushed him forward from the back. “Best to let it b-blow over.”

He nodded and ran out with them.

When they made it back into the parking lot, they were all panting but had smiles on their faces. Most people had brought their instruments with them if possible but the amps had been left behind.

“Oh god,” Beverly gasped. “My drums. We’re never getting that back, especially since it’s technically school property”

“Are you kidding me?” Mike asked. “They have no idea that it belongs to the school, seeing as it was sitting dusty in the corner. And there is no way that they’ll just take it now that they know that Beverly Marsh isn’t scared to make a fuss.”

“You ruined our first homecoming,” Stan said to Beverly, but the smile on his face was evidence that he wasn’t actually that mad at all.

“I love all of you,” Richie announced, creeping between Bill and Stan and throwing his arms over their shoulders. “Can’t wait to do that again.”

“If there is an again,” Ben replied, glancing back at the school with worry.

“Oh, there will be an again. Can’t forget about Rising Star,” Richie reminded him.

“Where are we gonna practice now, though?” Eddie asked. “There’s no way they’ll let us back in there for band related things.”

“We’ll figure it out, Eds,” he replied. “All great musicians do.”

“My garage is always an option,” Bill supplied.

“And the barn is going to be fairly empty until it starts to get really cold if you wanted to make your way out to my place,” Mike offered.

Beverly smiled. “We’re a team. If anyone can figure this out, we can.”

* * *

All actions had consequences. This was something they were reminded of as they were called into the dean’s office just before first period on Monday after a relatively blissful weekend watching as the hype surrounding Shark Puppy built up among their peers on social media. Even a few kids from outside their school seemed excited to see them at Rising Star after a few choppy Snapchat videos circled around.

But now here they stood, standing across from the dean of students as he lectured them about what is and what is not appropriate on school grounds as well as how he defined respect, which was much longer than a definition that you could find in any dictionary.

“And because of this, your band no longer has any place on school premises,” he told them. “No practicing here and I don’t want to hear a single word about you advertising for any performances or you will all be suspended. Your amps and instruments are currently being stored in the detention room in the basement and I expect them to be picked up by the end of the day.”

“What about my drumset?” Bev asked. “I don’t have a car.”

“Is that my problem?” The dean asked.

“I can borrow my uncle’s truck after school and pick it up,” Mike offered. “It just might not be until around four if that’s alright, sir?”

“That’ll be just fine,” the dean said with a nod. “So long as it’s out of that room by tomorrow. My secretary should be in the office until 5 and can let you in if the room is locked.”

“Are we going to have detention for this?” Ben asked.

The dean sighed. “I think this is punishment enough for your actions at homecoming. Call it a warning, I guess. Though, some of you have had warnings before. Regardless, your punishment will simply be the ban from band activity on campus and then I will be contacting your parents, of course.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “What?!” he yelped.

His mom could  _ not _ find out about this. She didn’t even know about the band yet! Without a doubt, this was going to land him in house arrest indefinitely. He was never going to see any of his friends again. He was never going to see  _ Richie _ again.

The dean nodded. “I need to make your parents aware of this behavior to ensure that it won’t occur again.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Beverly butted in. “I don’t see how telling our parents could drive home your point more than you already have by banning our band from campus and with the insightful conversation about respect you initiated just now. I think we’re all extremely sorry for what transpired on Friday night and will do what we can to rectify our behavior and better respect this school that we’re so lucky to attend.”

The rest of them just nodded in agreement. Eddie was pretty in awe of Beverly’s ability to say those words without them dripping in sarcasm. If Richie had taken point in this conversation, who knew where they would be. Expelled, probably.

He smiled. “Now, Miss Marsh, boys, I am very glad to hear that you are taking my words to heart but speaking with your parents is absolutely a necessity. Especially seeing as a few of you managed to avoid me speaking to your parents about your previous offenses.”

The dean looked to Bill and Stan as he said this and suddenly Eddie was curious as to what they had done to get detention in the first place, more so than he had been on that fateful afternoon in detention. He seriously doubted it was anything justified.

“Well, if we’re quite finished here, I think that the seven of you should be getting to class,” the dean announced. “I sincerely hope not to see any of you in this office again. I’m sure you’re good kids deep down, even if a little misguided. Well,” his eyes landed on Richie, “-most of you.”

They nodded respectfully to him and then all filed out of his office.

“What a fucking asshole!” Eddie hissed after they got into the hallway. “He totally singled you out, Rich.”

Richie shrugged. “What can I say? I have a reputation, baby.”

Eddie just rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god,” Mike said, stopping in his tracks.

“Wh-What is it?” Bill asked.

Eddie followed his gaze to an open space of wall where there were a ton of posters taped up saying various things like “We love Shark Puppy!” or “I want candy!!!” or, most concerningly, “Richie Tozier can do me any day!”

“Well, we certainly can’t give up on the fans now,” Mike said. “Not when they’re all here, fighting for us.”

“I’ll find a place for us to play,” Richie promised. “We’ll figure it out. A stupid campus band can’t end a band like ours.”

* * *

The hype certainly didn’t end with those posters in the hallway. For one thing, there were posters all around the school all week, despite the janitors’ best efforts to take them down. And there was a banner hanging from the front of the school for a while which was amazing not just because of its size, but also because somebody managed to hang it up there undetected  _ during eighth period _ .

The dean had called Beverly and Richie into his office to discuss everything but, since none of them were at all involved with any of this, there wasn’t much he could do other than make an announcement about vandalism over the loudspeaker on Thursday morning.

Their band was beginning to gain more recognition among other schools in the region as well. One of the guys from the AV club had recorded the entirety of their set and helped them to release it on Soundcloud. People sent it off to their friends and they actually  _ enjoyed it _ which was all too surreal to Eddie.

On the other hand, the excitement in school was pretty much the only excitement in Eddie’s life anymore. His mom had been furious when she learned of what happened with the band and declared all of his friends to be horrible influences. She told him that, while he had a very beautiful voice, it should be saved for church choir.

So, he was confined to his home, grounded for the rest of the week, ending after school on Friday, and banned from seeing his friends or participating in the band at all anymore, no exceptions. Of course, once he was free of being grounded he was going to find a way to make it happen behind her back but, for now, he was stuck with her rules.

The worst part was that she took his phone. He hadn’t realized how much he and Richie texted or how happy it made him to chat with him until it was ripped from his hands and hidden in the back of his mom’s sock drawer. While it was nice to get ahead in his schoolwork, he still found himself mind-numbingly bored most afternoons. How the hell had he survived for so long before meeting these people?

Richie had called a meeting for Friday night, down at Neibolt Street Pizza, to discuss future band practices and preparations for Rising Star. Because they actually had a  _ chance _ now and they were going to do something great.

The only problem was getting out of the house.

His go-to over the past few months had been the classic library excuse. He simply told his mom there was a project that needed doing or a big test coming up and that he needed desperately to spend a few hours after school or in the evening working on schoolwork. It had worked every time so far, but he wasn’t sure that it was the best excuse now after the truth of his recurring lie had been exposed. Because if she caught him in a lie, her eyes would be on him for the rest of the night and there would be no other way to get out.

He could always sneak out again, he supposed. It had worked pretty well last time. His mom was usually to wrapped up in her shows to remember to check on him after he said that he was going to bed. Sure, he would probably need an assist in getting out the window just to be safe since he didn’t completely trust the whole chain of sheets idea to hold up a second time but he knew that Richie would be more than willing to assist. The only problem was that his mom had been keeping a much closer eye on him all week. If she opened his door and he was suddenly gone, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be grounded for the rest of the month. Not to mention the fact that there was a decent chance that she might call the police to search for him.

He paced the room for a few minutes, desperate to think of a plan that would keep him from being grounded until the end of time. That’s when an idea hit him.

It was an awful plan. Not in that it wouldn’t work, because it most certainly would, but in that Eddie just simply had n0 desire to go through with it. Unfortunately, he didn’t really have much of a choice.

Greta Bowie was probably one of the vilest people that Eddie had ever met, behind only Henry Bowers and his friends. She was a relentless bully to both him and Beverly and constantly embarrassed him in front of pretty much everyone he knew. She hated him, which was fine because he absolutely despised her.

But Eddie’s mom? She loved her. Greta was the daughter of their pharmacist which meant that she had a lot of money and that she would hypothetically be understanding of Eddie’s condition (which she most certainly was  _ not _ .) Additionally, she and her family went to the same church as the Kaspbraks. It was about twice a week that Eddie’s mother hinted that they should get together, that she was such a nice girl (she wasn’t) and that she would treat him so well (she wouldn’t).

Eddie had absolutely no desire to interact with her ever. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice so he dialed her number and prayed that it hadn’t changed since they exchanged them in youth group a few years back.

“Hello,” said a voice on the other line.

“Hi,” he said after a beat. “It’s Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“So you finally got sick of boys,” she said. “Sorry, loser, but I still don’t want to go out with you. Try your friend, Marsh. She’ll sleep with anything.”

He heard motion on the other line, no doubt her moving to hand up the phone.

“Wait, no,” he yelped. “I need help with something. I don’t want to date you. Not for real, at least.”

She snorted. “Why would I help you? I don’t want to pretend to go out with some gay loser that is about three years too late for puberty.”

“I’ll pay you $20,” he offered. “It’s just so my mom lets me out of the house so I can go to a band meeting tonight.”

“$30,” she replied. “And two front seats at Rising Star.”

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “You don’t understand how grateful I am for this.”

“Oh, I understand,” she replied. “I don’t give a shit about your stupid band but the guy I  _ actually _ want to go out is evidently tone-deaf and seems to be a fan, so I guess I can’t let you just die out. Do I have to like show up at your house or something?”

“I’m going to tell her we’re meeting downtown,” he explained. “I just need you to get out of the house, maybe tell your dad you’ll be with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she called.”

“Well, I was already planning onto going to Henry’s party so I guess this works as an excuse,” she said. “I expect to see my money on Monday, loser.”

And then the line clicked dead.

He let out a sigh of relief. This plan was actually going to work, even if he was out $30.

Quietly, Eddie crept downstairs and knocked on the living room doorframe to get his mom’s attention.

“Can I go out tonight?” he asked her. “Since I’m technically not grounded anymore.”

“It depends, Eddie Bear,” she replied. “I don’t want you spending any more time with those horrible teenagers from that band. They’re a terrible influence on you.”

“I actually wanted to go downtown to meet up with a girl,” he lied. “Greta from church, actually. I’ve been thinking a lot about who I’ve been spending time with lately since I’ve been grounded and all, and I was thinking that she could be a pretty good influence on me. So we’re going to get dinner tonight, maybe go for a walk after.”

His mom sat up a little bit straighter in her seat. “Greta? Eddie that is so wonderful! Is she going to pick you up?”

“I was thinking that I could bike over to meet her,” he replied.

She stopped to think for a moment but nodded. “That’s fine, sweetie. Just be home by 10, alright?”

“I will, Mommy,” he promised before walking across the room to kiss her on the cheek. Mission accomplished.

* * *

Due to having to devise and execute a plan in order to get out of the house and then having to bike downtown, Eddie was the last one to get to the pizza place. When he sat down, his friends informed him that the pizza had already been ordered and that they’d remembered that he liked cheese, which was perfect.

“Okay, so time for band matter,” Richie said, setting a thick folder down on the table.

“This is your biology folder,” Ben said, reading the title off the top corner.

“Maybe so, but it looks official,” Richie replied. “Like I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Which I have.”

“Well, let’s hear it then,” Stan said, looking a bit distracted.

“We need three things right now,” he told them. “One, a place to practice. Two, to build our following and get hype before the contest. Three, money for the Rising Star entrance fee.”

“Well, I can-” Bill started, but Richie reached forward and pressed a finger to his lips.

“None of that, Big Bill,” he said. “Because I have solved all three of problems in one. Yes, I am that awesome.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, Rich.”

“I talked with the manager here and he’s agreed to let us play here regularly,” Richie told them. “He’s not paying us a ton, just enough to cover the fee so long as we tweet about it on the account Bev has so wonderfully agreed to run. But we can play here every night during the dinner rush, build up our name, and make sure we’re fully prepared for the contest next month.”

“That’s amazing,” Mike replied with a smile. “We’re a real band now. With gigs!”

“And there’s n-nothing that the dean can do to stop us,” Bill added, reaching over and squeezing Stan’s hand tightly.

“No way I’m getting away with sneaking out like this every night,” Eddie said with a sigh. “But fuck it. I’ll have to try.”

Richie threw an arm over his chest and hugged him closer. “Worse comes to worst, you can stay at my place, Eds. You’re too good for her anyway.”

For once, Eddie didn’t correct him on the nickname.

* * *

Practicing at the pizza place was great. Seeing people enjoy their music so much was incredibly healing and it drew them even closer as a group. Eddie was fairly sure that he could count on any of his bandmates for pretty much anything, especially Richie, who was known to offer himself up more than the others, at least when it came to Eddie.

It was hard to come up with good excuses to get out of the house every night but by rotating the same batch of excuses, mostly hanging out with Greta, studying at the library, or a made-up afterschool religious group, he was able to get away with it, even if his mom did often complain about how busy it was. It was actually working.

Until it wasn’t.

It was a Friday night and their gig had gone really well. Fridays were always their busiest night as it was, as pizza and a free concert were pretty much the best plans you could get in a tiny town like Derry. They had chosen tonight, the final Friday of the month, to debut a few new songs that they had been working on in Bill’s garage outside of their regular gig. The crowd tonight really seemed to love them and, as one of the band’s primary writers, Eddie was extremely proud of their work. They had hung around a bit after, mingling with their fans, and some middle school girls had actually asked him to sign things for them, which was kind of awesome. He had never felt more like a real musician than he did tonight.

And then he got home to the painful reminder that he was a real teenager and that his life wasn’t really his own. Not until he was 18 and, knowing his mother, probably not after.

She was in her usual chair, watching TV when he came home and he was about to start up the stairs when she turned off the TV and cleared her throat.

“Eddie, we need to talk,” she told him, arms crossed across her chest.

He forced a smile. “I was going to say ‘hi,” Mommy. I was. But then I saw you watching your show and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Where have you been?” she asked.

“Out with Greta. I told you,” he replied. “We just lost track of time. But it’s still before 10 so-”

“I thought you were going to the library tonight.”

“I was, we did,” he replied, far too quickly. He had thought for sure that his excuse for tonight was another fictional date. “We were studying together and then we grabbed some dinner.”

“At that pizza place downtown?” she asked. “Because Martha from work told me that she saw you play there the other night. She said that your band was very good. And I told her, no, that couldn’t be my Eddie bear. Because he studies and spends time with nice girls instead of playing inappropriate music with a band of deviants.”

“Mo-” he started.

“I’m not finished,” she snapped. “Not only have you been lying to me and doing this behind my back, against my wishes, but you’ve dragged poor Greta into it. What do you have to say about this?”

“I didn’t drag Greta into anything!” he exclaimed. “I paid her! And there is no ‘poor’ Greta. She’s been horrible to me since the day we met.”

“You’re the one who’s acting horribly!” his mom exclaimed. “You just need a nice girl to help you down a better path. If Greta won’t work for you then maybe Myra-”

“There will be no girl!” he yelled. “You already know that but you choose to ignore it! I’m gay, Mom.”

“No, you aren’t,” she replied. “You’re just confused. Those terrible kids in your band are leading you astray. That’s why I want you to stay away from them!”

“My bandmates are the best thing that ever happened to me!” he shouted. “That perfect son that you have an image of in your head? He never existed and I’m done pretending to be him. This is me, right here and now. I’m gay and I’m a musician and if you can’t deal with that, it’s your problem. I won’t spend another second of my life pretending to be somebody that I’m not.”

“I can help you,” she pleaded.

“You can’t,” he replied with a shake of his head, starting toward the stairs. “I’m going to pack my things. I’m sure one of my friends will have me.”

“You can’t leave! You’re still a teenager under my care.”

“Fine. Then I’ll go to social services and tell them that this home isn’t good for me. That you’re treating me poorly because of my sexuality and limiting my interactions with others,” he threatened. “Because it’s not exactly a lie, is it? And then everyone in the community will know about how Sonia Kaspbrak treats her son.”

“Where will you go?” she asked. “I put a roof over your head. I feed you. Are you really ready to be homeless at 16?”

“I have 6 friends that have my back no matter what. I won’t be homeless.”

And then Eddie made his way upstairs to pack his things and get going, not once glancing back at his mother.

* * *

“Are you sure it’s alright if I stay at your place?” Eddie asked Richie as he climbed into the Tozier minivan.

“Of course it’s alright, Eds,” he replied. “A chance to hang out with you all day every day? Score!”

“Ugh, maybe I should have just asked Bill,” he groaned. “I meant is it okay with your parents?” They don’t even know me.

“I mean, they’ve been wanting to meet you anyway, especially because I banned them from our pizza gigs so they’d be more hype at Rising Star,” he told him. “And when I asked my mom she said she’d be delighted to have you over. Besides, it’s really your loss. My siblings are absolute menaces.”

“I just would hate to put them in an uncomfortable position. This is all really sudden.”

“Eds,” Richie reached across the console and squeezed his hand. “You needed to get out of that house eventually and I’m happy that I can be here to help you do that. And my parents are going to love you because there’s nothing about you not to love.”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed red. “Thanks, Richie.”

“Hey,” Richie said, glancing toward him with a smile. “Who would I be if I wasn’t brazenly flirting with you until you were slightly uncomfortable.”

He rolled his eyes. “Moment over.”

* * *

Living with Richie was challenging. It wasn’t because Richie was annoying, even though he definitely was. And Richie’s family took to Eddie pretty quickly and welcomed him with open arms without treating him like a fragile child.

No, living with Richie was challenging because it had forced Eddie to come to terms that he was developing a  _ crush  _ on him. Sure, it had sort of been at the back of his mind before but now it was front and center. How were you supposed to ignore your feelings for a guy when you saw his messy hair when he woke up and heard the sweet sound of his laughter all throughout the day?

And, okay, he wasn’t exactly convinced that Richie didn’t like him back. He flirted with him a lot but sometimes it was hard to tell what was a joke from what was genuine with him. Besides, on the off chance that Eddie made a move and it was unwelcome, then he would be out on his ass and who knew what would happen with the band. It was just something that he couldn’t risk.

But there were moments where Eddie just wanted to kiss him so badly. Like when they were sitting on the floor of his room, talking about anything and everything for hours on end or they were writing songs that might be about each other in Bill’s garage. It was a true exercise in self-control not to kiss the guy who was singing about you, even if you were going to be the one to sing it in an actual concert.

Even the others were starting to notice it if their shared glances of annoyance or raised eyebrows were evidence. Hell, Stan had told them to get a room more than once. And they had one, they just didn’t put it to use.

Eddie really wanted to talk about it to somebody, but he didn’t know who to turn to. Beverly was Richie’s primary outlet for advice, he knew that much to be true. And then he wasn’t as close to Ben and Mike as some of the others were. There was always Stan, except he would tease him. Which left Bill.

“I think you should t-tell him,” Bill said simply on a day that Eddie had shown up to practice early so that they could talk.

“But it’s not that easy,” he argued. “I mean, I live with the guy now. If he rejects me then where will I go? Back home for a big ol’ ‘I told you so’?”

“You could stay here if that’s r-really all you’re worried about,” Bill suggested. “We have an air mattress in the attic somewhere that you could sleep on. It’s probably pr-preferable to Richie’s floor anyway.”

“I  _ like _ staying with Richie, though,” he said. “I mean, I get to spend so much time with him and I get along so well with his family. I just wish we could kiss too.”

“Then j-just kiss,” he replied. “He literally flirts with you all the time. He won’t be opposed.”

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Bill just shrugged. “I mean, there’s never a day that goes by that I’m not gr-grateful that I ruined my friendship with Stan.”

He groaned. “God, you’re right.”

“So, are you going to make a move?” Bill asked.

“Knowing me? Probably not.”

* * *

When Mike texted them that he had to cancel on their gig one Saturday afternoon and that he hoped they could find a way to continue on without him for the night, only about two weeks before Rising Star, they knew something was up.

Mike was probably the most dependable member of their band, perhaps tied with only Ben. He never missed a practice, much less a gig, and he always brought a lot of positivity to the table. He, more than anyone, believed that their music could bring meaningful change to Derry High and he put every ounce of his being into making that happen. So, if he was canceling, that meant that something had to be wrong.

Richie called the manager of Neibolt Street to cancel and the rest of them all climbed into Bill and Stan’s cars to set out for Mike’s family farm on the outskirts of Derry. Nobody had actually been there before other than Bill, who had picked him up for homecoming.

It was actually pretty beautiful out there. Eddie had only been outside of Derry a few times and he had never paid any mind to the view just outside of town. Its vibrant green hills were littered with the bright orange and yellow hues of the leaves that had just begun to fall to the ground with the onset of autumn.

Mike’s driveway itself was long and winding. They passed fields of sheep as they drove, who paid absolutely no mind to them, and the main part of the property consisted of a few different buildings, one obviously being the Hanlon family home.

As they hopped out of the car a man waved to them. “And what can I help you kids with today?”

“We’re l-looking for Mike,” Bill explained.

“He’s in the backyard,” the man told them. “There’s a gate along the side of the house. Feel free to let yourselves in. He could use a few friends today.”

Following the man’s instructions, they walked into the fenced-off yard behind the house, where he was laying on his back and staring up at the clouds. At the sound of the gate, he pushed himself up and looked at them with confusion. “What are you guys doing here? Don’t you have a gig tonight?”

Beverly shook her head. “Not without our bassist. Shark Puppy doesn’t leave anyone behind. Especially when they need their friends.”

“It’s just-” Mike sighed. “Today had been kind of difficult.”

The rest of them moved to lay down on the grass with him, eyes gazing up at the bright blue sky.

“Did something happen?” Ben asked politely. “If you want to share.”

“A long time ago,” he replied. “My parents died in a fire downtown when I was a baby and today is the anniversary. I don’t remember them very well but I still miss them. I can’t help thinking about what could have been, you know? I’m sorry. I don’t want to burden you guys with this.”

“It’s not a burden,” Stan replied. “We’re not just a band, we’re best friends. We have to be here for each other.”

“I mean, I’m literally living at Richie’s house right now,” Eddie pointed out. “If anyone is being a burden, it’s me.”

“We’re all damaged goods,” Beverly said. “But we make each other better,  _ brighter _ . We can’t give that up. My dad, he’s not a good man. And living with him sucks. It’s the thought of going to practice and seeing you guys every single day that keeps me going.”

She linked her hands with Ben’s and he linked his with Stan’s and so on until they were just one unbreakable chain. Stan was right, they were way more than just another band.

It was Bill that started singing in a shaky voice. It was a song that they only had practiced a few times and that they scrapped because they didn’t think it would appeal to the fans as much as songs about romantic love and schoolwide revolution but it was an important song to them nonetheless.

Because it was all about being a family. Not with the people they were related to by blood, but with one another, which was a bond that was far stronger because it was a bond that they chose, again and again.

It wasn’t long until everyone was joining in, smiles spread across their faces and tears in their eyes. They were Shark Puppy and nobody and nothing could tear that apart, celebrating together and mourning together forevermore.

* * *

Eddie woke up from a nap one Sunday afternoon, the week of Rising Star, only to see his phone riddled with notifications. 37 texts from the Shark Puppy group chat which wasn’t exactly abnormal because they could be quite talkative at times, a few individually from Bev and Richie, and then four missed calls from Richie.

The latter was weird. Like,  _ really _ weird. Sure, Richie was definitely the member of the band that Eddie communicated with more regularly, but Eddie was literally laying down on the floor of his room. Why couldn’t he just have woken him up?

Rather than read all his messages, Eddie opted just for calling Richie.

He picked up immediately. “Eds, thank god. You need to come to school immediately. Where are you now?”

“Our room,” he replied. “Why do I need to get to school on a Sunday?”

“A horrendous violation of our civil liberties,” Richie said, hanging up before he could get another word in.

“Fuck,” Eddie said to himself, slowly getting up off the ground and heading toward the garage, where his bike was parked.

It was raining but Eddie didn’t exactly have access to a car at the moment, so he had to deal with it. He debated breaking into his old home and stealing back the raincoat that he’d forgotten but, by the time he biked all the way over there, he probably would have spent just as much time in the rain so he just booked if straight to school and hoped for the best.

When he got there, Richie and Bev were sitting on the bed of a truck, arguing with a bunch of movers. The rest of the band just kind of stood around them, uncertain of what they should do.

“No, I will  _ not _ move,” Beverly shouted. “I’m exercising my right to protest for what I believe in and therefore am protecting the rights of the students of Derry High to shamelessly be who they are.”

“Give it up, Bev,” Stan said with a sigh. “It’s just a vending machine. We can fight the system in our own ways.”

“Please, kids,” said one of the movers. “We’ve got like two other things to pick up this afternoon and we don’t want to stand out in the rain more than we have to.”

“They’re just trying to do their jobs,” Mike reminded them.

“What’s going on here?” Eddie asked Bill as he approached.

“Beverly and Richie are pr-protesting because they’re moving the v-vending machine today,” he explained. “I get it but…”

“Yeah.”

“Fine, if you won’t move, then we’ll move you,” the other mover said, reaching for Bev.

“Don’t touch her!” Ben shouted, jumping onto his back.

And then, suddenly, they were all in a frenzy, fighting tooth and nail to keep the machine at the school, to preserve the story of their band. Stan was still standing to the side under his umbrella but Eddie was sure he supported them in this endeavor.

That’s when the police, who the movers had apparently called when it was still just Bev and Richie, showed up. Within 10 minutes, they were all in squad cars. Even Stan, who had volunteered himself up despite not doing anything so that he could be with the rest of them.

“The moving company employees that you harassed aren’t pressing any charges, by some miracle,” an officer told them after locking them all up in a cell together. “Still, we’ll be calling your parents to pick you up so that they’re aware of what transpired here today.”

“I’m not living with my mom right now,” Eddie burst out. “We’re on bad terms. You can’t call her.”

“Do you have someone I can call to get you?” the officer asked. “An adult in your current household.”

“He’s staying with me, so my parents will be fine,” Richie offered up.

“Alright. I’ll have to clear it with the chief but that should probably be fine,” she told them. “Hang tight in here and please, no more fighting.”

Her request was ignored as soon as the door closed behind them as Eddie whipped around on Richie. “Are you fucking stupid?! We’re in jail over a fucking vending machine right now.”

“You know what that machine means, Eds. To all of us. At least, I thought it did,” he snapped.

“I get the fucking sentiment.”

“Eddie’s right,” Stan jumped in. “Our cause doesn’t lay in a machine, even if it was important to us. There are more important things. Like Rising Star which I might just miss since I’m going to be grounded until the day I die.”

“You chose to come to jail!” Bev shouted.

“I couldn’t just leave you!” he exclaimed before pointing to Bill. “Especially not this self-sacrificial idiot.”

“I never asked you to f-fucking protect me,” he murmured, crossing his arms.

“Please, just stop fighting,” Mike said, stepping forward. “We have Rising Star on Friday night. We need to stick together, as a band.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Beverly said. “If we can’t be together on this, then we can’t perform together on Friday.”

“Fine,” Stan snapped.

Nobody talked after that or even looked at each other. They just sat together in the jail cell in silence, staring at the floor.

And then Ben started singing, ever-so-softly. He wasn’t much of a singer but it didn’t matter. He was singing the song from the beginning of it all, from the first day of detention.

One by one, each of them joined in until they were properly singing the song and looking at one another with smiles on their faces.

Because their band didn’t live and die by a vending machine. It lived in their music.

* * *

It was Friday night, the night of Rising Star, and this was it. It was going to be the time for their big moment. The one chance they had to make it big and actually make a difference in their school.

So, naturally, it all went to shit.

Being out in the rain on Sunday had caused Eddie to come down with a killer cold, one that snatched away his voice. He had tried everything from tea to cough drops to Stan’s mom’s humidifier to fucking apple cider vinegar and nothing worked. He was going to be going onstage without the ability to raise his voice above a whisper, much less hold a fucking note.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it. It seemed that almost all of them had a disaster of their own.

Richie had caught Eddie’s cold and couldn’t go two seconds without sneezing violently, often causing his glasses to go flying off of his face.

Beverly had shown up to school on Thursday with a broken arm. She said she didn’t want to talk to it but apparently, she was also moving in with her aunt, so Eddie had an inkling of what terrible thing might have occurred.

Bill and Stan wouldn’t speak to one another. Nobody knew what exactly they were fighting about but during practice all week they could scarcely keep the two of them in the same room and, when they did play together, the band’s synergy was all out of whack.

Mike had a terrible black eye and potentially a concussion. When they asked him about it he said that he had gotten kicked by one of the family’s horses.

Ben was just scared. A sudden bout of stagefright seemed to have struck him. Probably because his mother had never actually heard him perform before, due to her busy work schedule, but she was going to be there tonight.

All in all, they were a fucking mess. But it didn’t matter. This was their shot, everything that they had been working so hard for. They had to try.

“Now presenting Derry’s own hit new band, Shark Puppy!” said the announcer shortly after the previous band had left.

“Don’t choke,” hissed Bowers from the wings, his bandmates cackling behind him.

Eddie forced them from his mind. No matter what kind of state they were in, they were going to figure this out. They had to, or else they’d just be letting their dream die out without a scream of defiance.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the stage.

They had never played for a crowd like this one. Sure, homecoming had probably been just as crowded, but those people were just as focused on dancing as they were on them, if not more so. This was just hundreds of people sitting there and watching, judging their every note. It was almost as intimidating as it was empowering. Because this wasn’t just a room of people, it was an audience who they were going to get to communicate their message to. What could be greater than that?

When he glanced back from the microphone, all of his friends were waiting for him. He gave them a nod and then Richie and Ben started strumming out the intro. The song had begun.

It was, to put it simply, a complete disaster. For one, there was absolutely no way that Beverly could keep up with the rhythm when she was down an arm. Richie wasn’t faring much better either, his sneezing disrupting the music he was playing every few seconds. Ben was holding his own pretty well, but he was also visibly sweating profusely. Bill and Stan were still off at the beginning but, as the song went on, they began to fall together a bit more. Mike was wincing at the bright lights shining down on them which probably felt awful if he really did have a concussion. And Eddie? Well, he could barely get a sound out of his mouth.

Eventually, they just had to give up. They couldn’t disappoint their audience any longer.

There was no clapping after they stopped. There was no noise at all.

Until there was a voice.

Someone from the back, probably another student from their school, singing their song. Soon, another person joined in. And then another. Soon enough, half the auditorium was singing for them. Not out of pity. If they pitied them they would have clapped when they finished. No, these people were inspired by their message, by their stories that resonated with so many people in Derry and beyond.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that.

Ben’s stage fright began to melt away and he started strumming out the song with the audience. Bill and Stan shared a smile and then continued as well. The rest of them stood arm and arm on the stage, overjoyed with the impact of their music and the kindness of the audience.

They didn’t win Rising Star. How could they with such a disaster of a performance, audience participation, or not? But they won something so much bigger that night.

They won over their fans and they won over themselves. It was going to be harder to get their message out from now on, that much was true. They had blown their big opportunity to do it. But they also knew that they couldn’t give up. They needed to fight to make change happen. both in music and in their personal lives.

That’s what Shark Puppy was meant to do.

* * *

Even after it was all over, they kept fighting any way that they could. They continued to distribute the songs that they had recorded online, they sat in on club meetings for people that have slowly been getting their funding cut due to athletics, and, after recruiting several talented students and some concerned faculty members, they presented their case to the school board. 

In the end, it was a success. They managed to secure a grant that, while not being nearly as large as the school’s funding for athletics, allowed them to save numerous clubs on campus and reinstate music classes as an elective for the coming years.

If only it could save their band. They were still banned from campus due to the homecoming situation, positive impact, or not, and it was another couple of months before they could even practice again due to Bev’s arm. After it was healed, they resumed their gigs at Neibolt Street but most of their hype had died down by then.

At least they were doing much better in their personal lives. Bill and Stan had gone back together pretty much five minutes after Rising Star ended. Bev and Ben got together a week later, which was something Eddie had been blindsided by, though he supposed he was more preoccupied with his own problems. Beverly was living with her aunt and thriving and Eddie with the Toziers. Ben had a lot more confidence and spoke up for what he believed in. Mike was far less subdued because, while he was never necessarily lacking in confidence, he had previously been unwilling to make himself known. They were all doing better, in their own ways, even if the band was behind them.

Still, Eddie longed for those few weeks immediately following Rising Star where there was a bunch of Instagram hype among teenagers in the region, posting videos covering their songs or eating the candy or just saying what their music meant to them. Maybe if they lived in a bigger town or just knew the right people, then it would be different.

That was, until Bev showed up to practice one day vibrating with energy. She had reached out to the company that produced Sharks and Puppies  _ months _ ago, sending them the video of them performing at homecoming. They had finally gotten back to her and apparently, they wanted to sponsor the band in its endeavors, including getting them higher profile gigs and revamping their school auditorium.

Tonight was their first big gig. Shark Puppy, live in New York City, featuring frontman Eddie Kaspbrak. He was going to throw up.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Eddie told Richie, trying to peer through the wings to get a view of their full house.

“Eds, of course you can,” he replied. “You’ve done this so many times before. So what if there are a few more people? You’re the best singer in the world.”

“You’re biased,” he countered.

“Yes,” Richie agreed. “I also have impeccable taste in music, though, so I’m still right.”

“But-” he started.

Richie shook his head. “Don’t play for them, Eddie. Play for me.”

And then he pushed him onto the stage.

The lights were bright and the thundering of applause was deafening, but he forced a smile as he reached the microphone.

“We’re Shark Puppy,” he told them. “Let’s turn up the music.”

Just like every other time, he got lost in the music after the first note. They had made it and their message could finally reach millions. They had won.

When the set had ended, they were all breathing heavily and sweating, goofy smiles on their faces. They had done this, they had  _ earned  _ it.

Eddie grabbed Richie by the collar and hauled him into a kiss, blocking out the roar of the audience and the knowledge that all eyes were on them right now.

Because, after all of this, he knew how to be brave.


End file.
